


Frisson of Expectation

by R_Armchair



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Aged-Up Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy), Alcohol, F/M, Fluff, May/December Relationship, Pseudo-Incest, Vanya no longer mopes around, homeboy is 58 in this, i make no excuses for this executive decision, no beta we die like ben
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 20:51:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19117471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_Armchair/pseuds/R_Armchair
Summary: Five doesn’t know what to do with his life now that he’s an old man without a mission.  Vanya tries to pull him out of his funk.





	Frisson of Expectation

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve rated this Teen, but there will be two uses of the F word. If that’s not to your taste, I totally understand :). Upping the rating just for language felt like overkill.

Five reclined in the chaise lounge while looking at the window.  It wasn’t so much out, or through, but simply at.  The stained glass work was meant to keep prying eyes out, but it cost the house’s inhabitants the chance to gaze beyond the walls.  He held a whiskey in one hand and traced the lead with the other.

“I see you’re making use of those ice trays I bought you,” Vanya said, entering the parlor.

“Grace found them, and suddenly the bar was always stocked with spheres of ice,” Five said, finally turning his attention to his sister.  “I couldn’t care less.  It’s not like I’m used to elaborate drinks.  I’m just as happy with wines that have gone sour.  As long as it’ll get me drunk.”  He touched the colored panes of glass once more.

“Five,” Vanya said, loudly dragging an armchair close to him.  “Is this how you plan on spending your time?  It’s been three months.  You haven’t left the house once.  Mom is worried.”

“Funny.  A woman doomed to be young and beautiful forever, is concerned about a fifty-eight-year-old recluse.”

Vanya slunk into her chair and took Five’s glass from him.  “Wasn’t that the point of all this?  To be free to live your life, in your own body, here with us?”  She took a sip, and then placed it out of his reach.

“‘With us’ leaves plenty of room for error.  The only one I actually live with is Luther, who I’d rather avoid.  You drop in at random to check on me.  Don’t pretend I haven’t noticed.  Klaus and Ben are God knows where.  Allison is on set.  And Diego is constantly pestering that Detective Patch.  Won’t he get the message?  It’s over between them.  She ain’t interested.”

She smiled softly.  “Hmm.  Sounds to me like you’re jealous of him.  Maybe you just need a good old fashioned love affair to get the gears going.”  She snorted unexpectedly.  “Jesus, I sound like Allison.  Maybe that’s terrible advice.”

“No,” he answered curtly.

“It’s totally normal.  There are even apps and websites that specialize in…people of a certain age.”

“Seniors, you mean,” he said, cutting in.

“Yes.  You could find someone like you, or, there are also plenty of young women who are interested in older men.  It’s a big wide world, Five.  Now that you’re not the only person on the planet, it might be healthy for you to form an actual relationship with someone.”  She grinned.  “But first you should probably shave.  Or at least groom your beard, it might get you better results.”

He swung his legs off the lounge chair, his boots making a thump as they hit the ground.  “Like me?  No one out there has had a similar life experience.  I wouldn’t have anything in common with women my age.  I was born in ’89.  They’re all straight out of the 60’s.  I know shit-all about history, especially after fucking it up more than once.”

“Who was I kidding?”  Vanya stood up.  “I’ve had enough of your mopey bullshit.  Next time Luther calls me, I’m going to hang up.”

Five stood as well, a wicked grin building on his face.  “No you won’t.”

She rolled her eyes in a non-verbal response.

“I’ve read your book so many times I could recite it from memory.  I’m your favorite, and you’re a pushover.”

“Then work with me, at least a little.”  She pivoted him out of the way so she could drop into his chair. 

Putting her finger to her lips in a signal of silence, she closed her eyes and began concentrating.  The wind in the courtyard picked up.  Leaves rubbed at the windows.  Terracotta pots rolled into one another, clanking repeatedly like a wind chime.  The curtains and valance that framed the window rustled.  Each of the sounds was at an especially low frequency.  Five, whose ears had been damaged by his gun and the general decline of old age, could experience the music she was making for him.

“Think of all the things I could play for you if we went outside,” she said, giving him a relaxed, but judgmental expression.

“Ever the musician.  Fine, what’s in it for me if I go outside?”

“Dinner’s on me, whatever you want.  Whether it be hot dogs or escargot.  Then we’ll hit an upscale bar.  I’ll be your wing-man.”

He raised an eyebrow and spoke, “After a lifetime of cockroach cuisine, I’m never eating a snail again.  Also, you’re hell bent on getting me laid, aren’t you?”

“The sooner you do, the sooner Luther will stop calling me.  The conductor keeps assuming he’s my boyfriend.” She shuddered and stuck her tongue in and out of her mouth trying to get rid of a bad taste.

* * *

 

Shaving off his beard was easier than trying to shape it.  If the magazines that Klaus left behind were to be believed, facial hair was the ‘it thing’.  But, Five had only ever had two looks: lazily grown or effortlessly clean-shaven.  He wasn’t going to spend an afternoon learning new tricks.  He was an old dog.

Vanya arrived at the Hargreeves residence precisely at seven p.m.  Her hair fell in waves, and she wore a suit.  Luther confided in Five the next morning that he’d momentarily thought she’d resurfaced as the White Violin.  The man did not understand that she meant nothing sinister by her attire.  Vanya was not like Allison; her idea of formal wear simply gravitated toward the masculine.  He’d said ‘she looked scary.’

Five had thought of another S word that he’d kept to himself.  Sexy.  Terrifyingly so.  Like she could fuck you or slice your dick off.  It was up to her, and you would have no idea which it was until you were willing in the midst of it.

“I thought you were my wingman,” Five said, standing in the doorway and wearing one of Reginald’s expensive jackets.  “Any and all attention is going to be on you.”  He clomped down the steps, his combat boots peeking out from his dress pants.

“Best case scenario, neither of us leave emptyhanded,” she said with a laugh, following him toward the cab waiting on the street.

* * *

 

“You aren’t going to find a date here.” Vanya dipped a glazed donut into her mug.

“I pick the restaurant, you pick the bar.  Wasn’t that the agreement?”  He sipped at his deliciously bitter black coffee.  “I used to sneak out to Griddy’s with the others when we were kids.  We never took you since you would’ve blabbed.  Different management though.  The donuts weren’t nearly as stale.”  He glared at the young man who was working the register.

The employee, oblivious to the comment, came to refill their coffees.  “You guys come from a show or something?  My grandma used to always dress up when she’d go to the opera.  You got any suggestions for what’s good?”  He spilled liquid onto the countertop as he moved the carafe from one cup to the next.  “I’m supposed to see some sort a’ concert for my History of World Music course.”

She cocked an eyebrow and glanced at Five before turning to the young man.  “I’m actually first chair for a chamber orchestra that performs at the Icarus Theater.  We’re having a concert the first Friday of next month.  If you give me your full name, I can leave two tickets for you at the door.”

“Why would I need two?”

“For your plus one, you imbecile.”  Five plucked napkins from the metallic stand and sopped fruitlessly at the counter.  “Its days like this when I miss… what the hell was that old lady’s name? Irene? Allie? Aglet? No, that can’t be right.”

* * *

 

At the bar, Five had equally bad luck.  Even if Vanya had located a spot in the financial district, where everyone was a stylish business person in their forties or fifties, it was hard to notice him.  Years as an assassin had instilled a need to be invisible while in plain sight.  The male operatives were groomed to be exceedingly average.  Hazel had excelled in that regard, but Five had also outgrown the handsome features of his youth.  Women overlooked him completely, and men only registered his presence when they realized they’d cut him and Vanya off mid conversation.

He grew steadily drunk as the night progressed.  At least Vanya was going to pick up the tab, and these mixed drinks were a change of pace from the expensive liquors that Reginald had stocked his cabinet with.

“I should probably get you home.” She clutched his hunched shoulders and began shuffling him towards the exit.  Once they reached the street she looked up into his eyes.  “You didn’t even try Five, I sent so many ladies your way.”

His hands slipped around her waist.  “I left the house, isn’t that more than enough the first time?”

“So there’ll be others?” she asked eagerly.

“Sure, why not.  Even if I just want to spend my days in peace, Luther is getting on my nerves.”

“Stop the bitter old man act.  You don’t even have a lawn to yell at troublesome kids from.”  She peered at him, taking in an expression he didn’t know he was giving.  “God, Five.  That’s what you actually want, isn’t it?  A white picket fence?  If that’s the case shouldn’t you get cracking?  Even if you knocked up someone tonight, you’re going to be almost eighty when the kid graduates high school.”

“I’d be like our father,” he said with an air of dismal finality.

“Then why the hell didn’t you stay young?” The alcohol caused a loose thread of anger to take over, but it disappeared when she noticed his disappointment.

“You’ll want different things at different times in your life.  As a boy, even with my memories intact, I was overwhelmed by puberty.  No one thinks of forever then.  All I wanted was to grow up, as all children do.  To be myself again.”  He rested his chin on the top of her head.  “And now that I am,  I’ve missed opportunities I was never afforded and thus overlooked.”

Gripping her firmly, he teleported them in a flurry of light to her apartment.  Without a warning or a goodbye, he left.

* * *

 

Five had explained more times than necessary, how time travel worked.  His siblings still never got it.  They’d been perplexed when suddenly he inhabited his fifty-eight year old body.  Which, he had been too at first.

The explanation had always been some variation of the following.  When he’d first traveled to the future, it had been a spatial jump.  Very physical.  He’d taken his body as a unit and forced it through time and space.  He’d been lucky, or extremely unlucky, for all the conditions necessary to be in place.  Those types of jumps took an excessive amount of energy.  After the apocalypse, there had been nothing around him to draw it from.  Plants, bugs, and the occasional storm being the only electricity around him (he could never figure out how to harness solar for his needs).  This was why the Commission relied on suitcases; they came with batteries.

His jump to 2019 had been completely different, which he had irritatingly explained to his siblings when they first reunited.  Apparently, no one had bothered paying attention.  All subsequent jumps were not of his corporeal form.  Rather, he moved his essence along pre-existing points on the timeline.  Number Five would always be a thirteen-year-old trying to stop the apocalypse.  Thus, he was forced to inhabit his thirteen-year-old body when he entered that point of the timeline.

What got tricky for the siblings, was how they all arrived in 2002 as teenagers.  Shouldn’t they have still been adults? No!  They existed as thirteen-year-olds, and all he’d moved, for a term that Luther could understand, was their souls.  Which is why he’d been able to take Ben along.  Had he been transporting matter, then the Ben of 2002 would still be the original.  But he wasn’t, he was Their Ben.

All of the children had panicked.  They’d immediately thought they’d be doomed to relive their lives completely.  A second chance for Klaus, but another go around of failure for Luther.  Thankfully, that was completely unnecessary.  Five could simply throw them all back into 2019, and their alternate…yet still the same…their new selves as it were, would take care of the rest in the meanwhile.  However, he’d been unsure whether or not they’d amass any new memories during the jump.  As a failsafe, he’d asked each of them to promise to keep records.  Only Vanya had done so.

Though, that had been redundant, as Ben had chosen to stay.  Even if it meant that one day, all of his siblings might suddenly be overtaken with a collective bout of amnesia.  Which they had.

So, Ben had to explain how Five had still been ‘the same little shithead’ and disappeared into time.  He’d smugly claimed that he’d ‘understood it better, so he didn’t run the same risks.’ Ultimately, a week before their return, he’d finally arrived via a suitcase.  He’d refused to give any details, only claiming that he’d ‘taken care of something.’

Five spent the subsequent months dwelling on his conversation with Hazel.  Even given a second chance, he’d squandered his opportunity to grow up properly.  Now he’d never know.  The clock kept ticking, mile-markers only a flash as he’d sped through the important parts of his life.  Sixty was too old for a restart.  Yet, hearing Vanya speak his most secret thought aloud, had resulted in a frisson of unlikely expectation.

* * *

 

“So, I’ve been thinking.” Vanya strode into Five’s childhood bedroom.

Sequestering himself in the house as he was, he’d redecorated.  There was now a king size bed taking up almost all the floor space.  The walls were painted a cheery blue, per Grace’s suggestion, and his closet was devoid of anything Umbrella Academy adjacent.  Floating shelves were mounted from floor to ceiling.  Their centers all bowed from the abundance of books.  Vanya had to sidestep along the bed to reach the window where Five was relaxing in a desk chair.  Though, there was no longer a desk to accompany it.  He placed a notepad on the sill and looked up at her.

“Well?”

“You have no moral dilemma over using your trust fund, right?”  Vanya, Allison, and Diego had all decided against touching the Hargreeves fortune.  The other boys, not so much.

“Depends.  What are we blowing it on?”

“We’ll buy you a wife.  Someone who will have no issue with any of your flaws.  Because she won’t have a choice.”

“Flaws?”  His eyebrows drew together as he snapped his response.

“You’re…kind of an ass, Five.  Anyway.  We’ll just custom order you someone a la Reginald Hargreeves purchasing us.  Then you can have all the babies and happy little family you want.”

“You’ve been talking to Klaus haven’t you?”

Vanya stifled a laugh.  “Just a bit.  But look at you.”  She reached forward and ran her finger down the wrinkles of his forehead and stopped between his eyes.  “This is the liveliest you’ve been all week.”  Poking at his cheek, she said, “There’s that famous grimace I’ve been missing.”

After their night out, she’d been visiting him every afternoon.  After learning the cause of his listless behavior, it was clear she’d been trying her best to lighten his mood.  What she hadn’t done, was pressure him on more dates.  Until he was truly open to the idea of spending his life with someone other than Dolores, any night would go as uneventfully as the first.

“Luther is making lasagna tonight.  Grace teaches him to cook on Wednesdays.”  Five moved her hand away.  “He’s pretty good with pasta.”

“You inviting me to dinner?” She settled on to the bed, kicking off her shoes.

“This is your house; no one is going to turn you away.”

“When you put it that way, how could I say no?”

“I’ll be right back.”

Instead of teleporting, he quickly maneuvered around the bed and out of the room.  He’d forgotten how much using his powers took out of him.  He rarely used them in the wasteland, and during his work with the Commission he’d been discerning.  Only moving around one room at a time.  Things like jumping throughout the house these days, left him winded.  On his night out with Vanya, traveling from the bar, to her apartment, and back to his house had left him all but powerless for days.  He wouldn’t let her know this.  Or at least, he was trying.  She would inevitably point out how strange it was for him to run to and fro between the bedrooms.

“He’s excited,” he said, returning and once again weaving his way to the window.  “Claimed that he’s going to get started early, so that you don’t have to wait so long.”

Those hadn’t been his exact words.  Luther had said something that sat heavy in Five’s chest.  He’d said he would start dinner early, so that Vanya wouldn’t be stuck in a ‘dirty old man’s’ room for hours.  It was a playful way that Luther and Five hounded each other when no one was around.  But when he’d mentioned Vanya, there’d been a contradictory moment of painful exhilaration.  As if Luther had stroked an exposed nerve.

Both Vanya and he looked up as booming steps sounded in the hallway.  Luther’s lumbering form cast a shadow on the room before he peeked in.

“Meat? No meat?  Salad? Spinach, kale?”  Luther excitedly said, an enormous smile overtaking his face.

“Pickles? Mozart? Television?  Are we playing 20 questions?”  Vanya asked.

“Last time Ben came over, he’d become a vegetarian.  For like two days.  He isn’t anymore.  This is the first time I cook for someone other than Five.” He couldn’t stop eagerly patting his hands rhythmically against his thighs.  “I want to get it perfect.”

“I’m not picky.  As long as I don’t have to cook, I’ll be happy.”

Luther whistled all the way down to the kitchen.  With the room quiet again, she reached above her head to one of the many shelves.  She pulled down a book at random, and began reading.

* * *

 

Harmlessly.  Things had started harmlessly.  Five kept reminding himself that there was nothing wrong with what he was doing.  He and Luther were seated at the front row of the Icarus Theater.  They each held a bouquet in their laps, both purchased by Five. He’d remembered her telling the student at Griddy’s about her upcoming concert, a performance she’d pointedly never mentioned to any of her siblings.  Offhandedly he’d shared this information with Luther, and suddenly, they were ordering tickets online within the hour.  Then, on the day of, Five had stopped at a floral shop on the way.   When he’d come outside, it occurred to him how awkward it might look if only one of her uninvited siblings bought her a gift.  So he’d shoved the enormous bouquet – where perfectly shaped roses cascaded out of the cellophane, surrounded in greenery and babies breath, and each bloom effused perfume – into his brother’s huge arms and rushed back into the store.  He’d picked out a smaller selection, colorful Gerber daisies, which he would hand her.

The second she’d walked on stage, her eyes had widened and her entire body tensed.  She’d been dressed the same as the day she’d taken him out on the town.  Her look was even more striking beneath the stage lights.  He understood why Luther had been petrified that evening.  She was giving off the same ambiance of the apocalypse, if to a lesser degree.  There was a strong possibility she might murder one of her brothers.

They’d patiently watched the performance, and then waited until the orchestra disappeared backstage.  They weren’t sure if they were to follow her into the green room or flee in terror.  Neither was the correct answer, because soon enough she sauntered into the auditorium to find them.  She made her way straight to the front row, where they had been pacing, and then tossed her violin case onto the nearby seats.

“I’m going to kill you,” she said, ripping the bouquet away from Luther and clutching it to her chest.  She breathed it in deeply before exhaling dramatically.  “Everyone was making fun of me back there, saying,  ‘Awe, your dad and boyfriend came together.’”  She pressed her face into the flowers and sucked in their scent a second time.  “Thank you, Five.  These are beautiful.”

“I brought you these.” He held out the daisies.

“You brought them both.” She grabbed the other bouquet, and gave it a superficial glance before tucking it under her arm.

Five raised an eyebrow, and slicked back his hair, something he was relieved he could do.  Genetics were a crapshoot and he sometimes wondered what his brothers would look like at his age.  He betted Diego would be the first to go bald.

“What makes you so sure of that?”

“Either of these yours?” She nodded toward Luther.

“Nope.”

“Settles it.”

“Wait a second,” Luther said, “they think I’m your boyfriend?”

“What else were they supposed to think? A guy constantly calls me, and then shows up with the biggest set of roses they’ve ever seen.  No one, and I mean no one, believes that you’re my brother.”  She sighed and turned to Five.  “And I’m sorry about the dad thing.”

He shrugged in response.  Moments later, a woman made her way into the auditorium and seemed to be taking the same path as Vanya. 

“Hey, so you going to introduce me?”  The woman waved, trying to catch Vanya’s attention.

Vanya made a frustrated noise before timidly signaling the newcomer.  “This is Helen.  She’s second chair.”

“So I hear you’ve known each other for years.  Anything juicy to share?”  Helen asked, closing in on Five’s personal space.  “I know a place we could trade gossip.”

Vanya was standing behind Helen making wild gestures.  She kept pointing at the top of the woman’s head and then directly at Five.  She moved her mouth in an exaggerated manner, silently speaking to him.  He could catch all of it.  ‘She likes old dudes.’  ‘She wants you.’  Then she punctuated her next statement with a thumbs-up. ‘Go for it.  She’s easy!’

When Helen swished around, Vanya scratched her neck innocently.

“I’m busy.” Five said.  “Luther’s free.”

“Oh.  Well, we could reschedule.  I suppose you’re celebrating with Vanya tonight.”

“That concert was amazing!” someone else said as they raced down the carpeted aisle.

Five knew who it was before he even turned around.  Donut Boy had made good on his free tickets.  Just as Vanya was about to answer him, Five grabbed her violin, flung his arms around her waist, and transported her to the parking lot.  He pulled the keys from his pocket and unlocked the Rolls-Royce.

“What was that?” she asked without a hint of anger.

“Let’s get out of here.  Luther can find his own ride home.” He held the passenger door open.

“Not until you tell me why you poofed us out of there.” 

If he’d been looking, he would have seen a grin on her face.  Instead, he was focused on loading her instrument into the trunk.

“I have no interest in Helen From Your Orchestra.  And you should know better than to mess around with Donut Boy.  He’s way too young for you.”

“He’s an adult, albeit barely.  It’s not like he’s thirteen.”

The keys made a horrid scratching sound when Five yanked them from the keyhole.

“Once everyone’s legal, no one really cares.  Can’t you see? Helen’s in her thirties and she shamelessly hit on a man in his fifties.  If there’s someone you rather date, just ask them.”

“What if they say no?”  Five wiped flecks of metallic paint onto the concrete.  “My only relationship has been with Dolores.  No one wants a sixty-year-old-virgin.  Especially when he’s going to want to rush the whole thing.  Straight to marriage and kids and all the little shit he missed out on, because this is the only chance he’s ever going to have at it.”

She walked up and pressed herself along the length of his back.  Resting her cheek between his shoulder blades, she wrapped her arms around him, dropping the flowers onto the car.

“It wouldn’t be the first time two people courted with the intent to marry.  A little old-fashioned, but hey, so are you.”  She felt his hand rest over hers.  “Curious how I knew the roses were from you?”

“I’ll bite.  How did you know?”

“I didn’t.  But when Helen told the orchestra that my dad and boyfriend were in the audience, I only half corrected her.  I said, ‘that’s my brother in the audience.’  I never said anything about my boyfriend not coming.  They just all jumped to incorrect conclusions.”

“Have I been that obvious?” He rubbed his thumb along her forearm.

“It’s not like I’m the pinnacle of discretion.  You’ve always been my favorite.  You just didn’t know by how much.”

**Author's Note:**

> I kept trying a re-youngified fiveya fic and got nowhere fast. Somehow a May-December romance came out instead. Whoops. Hope you enjoyed it anyway :)


End file.
